Boreal and John Grey Season 1

by Chrystalla Thoma

  “You’ve said this before,” Ella said, frustrated. “Have you heard anything new?”

  “The guardians.” Sarah let her hand drop and turned her face into the pillow. “My head hurts.”

  “Listen.” Ella fought the urge to pace, and bent over the bed so she could keep her voice low. “I really need your help with this. I can’t find any clues to Simon’s disappearance, and you can help.” She licked dry lips. “Please, Sarah.”

  Sarah looked up, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “There was this name... Ad Long.”

  Ella licked dry lips. “Ad Long?”

  “Or Ad Lang. Or something.”

  Ad Lang. Adlang? Andl— No, not possible. Ella took a step back, her breath knocked out. “Andlangr? The fucking Gates? Is that what you heard?”

  “Gates...” Sarah’s eyelids were drooping. She was floating on a drug cloud.

  Ella shoved her icy hands into her pockets. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. And she hadn’t been expecting it. Why were the Shades talking of Aelfheim? “I’ll find Simon. I promise.”

  But Sarah was already asleep.

  ***

  Ella flipped her phone open and hit the speed dial as she strode down the stairs and out the hospital. She jogged down the street to her car. A slip of paper on the windbreaker caught her eye. A fine? Really?

  “Ella?” Dave barked from the other end. He didn’t sound thrilled to hear her. Go figure. “It’d better be important. I’m in the middle of a crisis here.”

  Shaking her head, she snatched the slip and entered her car. Funny how a fine could sting after Sarah’s ominous words and the fear curling tight in her stomach. “Let me guess: more Shade attacks?”

  “Yeah.” Dave spoke to someone offline, then grunted in the receiver. “Something you wanted to tell me?”

  “Did the powers that be forget to tell you the mess we’re in has to do with Aelfheim, or did you choose not to tell me?”

  Silence. Dave’s rapid breathing. “Ella...”

  She swallowed, made sure her voice was even. “Spit it out, Dave. What else should I know?”

  “We’ll talk. I promise.”

  “Like we talked half an hour ago? And all these past days?” She bit down on the words that tried to pour from her mouth — damn you, Dave, you stupid son of a bitch, this is so much bigger than I thought and what the hell are we going to do now? —and revved the engine. “I’m on my way.”

  “I can’t talk right now, Ella.”

  “Then when?”

  “Just relax, okay? The world won’t end tonight, I promise. Come tomorrow morning and I’ll tell you all I know.”

  He hung up before she could tell him what to do with his promises. She punched the wheel. Dammit. Was she overreacting? Was she rushing to conclusions? The talk of Gates and Aelfheim, what else could it mean?

  Many shops looked closed and shuttered as she drove home. A woman ran, her handbag swinging. Late for an appointment or pursued by a Shade? Ella rolled down the window, but the air was quiet.

  Great, now she was seeing Shade attacks everywhere. She patted the charms around her neck. They chimed softly, calming her.

  Countless worlds hang on the Tree; its mighty roots stab the Grey. Andlangr which some call the Aelfheim, is closest of all, but the Gates have been locked and lost.

  A place she hadn’t heard discussed in years — ever since she’d joined the Bureau. A place grown mythical for lack of contact in the long centuries since the Gates were reported closed. Sealed and hidden, and for good reason, if the stories were anything to go by. Earth had barely avoided total annexation back then. If the Gates opened again...

  Who knew the thinning of the Veil would look like a tiny hiccup in the big scheme of things? If Sarah had heard correctly. If it really meant what Ella feared. If worst case scenarios didn’t make the most sense right now.

  But as long as Dave refused to talk, there wasn’t much she could do, and she was dead tired. Time-out to lick her wounds.

  ***

  Throwing her keys on the kitchen counter, she opened the fridge, stared blankly at its empty contents and her last bottle of beer. She closed it again. God, she needed a vacation. And a life.

  Missy wandered by, meowing and stopping to rub herself on the chairs and walls. Crap, she’d forgotten to get more cat food. She fished out the last can from her cupboard and grabbed the can opener.

  “See, Missy, there’s food for you in this apartment, but not for me. What does that tell you about me, huh? No sense of self preservation, Simon always says.” She paused, her chest heavy. “But what does he know? I’d much rather pass out drunk on my sofa, thank you very much.”

  Missy watched intently as Ella dished out the smelly food, waited until she moved away, and then approached the bowl.

  Ella sank in a chair, watching the kitty feed, and unscrewed the lid off the beer. “Glad to see me, Missy? Because you sure don’t look like it.” She took a swig of cold beer and shivered. Damn, the heater. She lurched to her feet and went to flick on the switch. Hot air hit her face and she turned, letting the warmth work on the knotted muscles in her back.

  Missy growled softly, making small slurping noises.

  “Simon is missing, you know. It’s been...” Ella shook her head. “Two days now. I’m scared.” She staggered back to her seat, put the bottle on the table. “Can’t be a coincidence, can it? That he’s vanished just as the world went out of spin.”

  Missy didn’t seem interested in listening or answering, which reminded her of someone. “He hasn’t called me, you know. Finn. Not that he said he would. Or even that he needs my help.” She swallowed more beer. She still had to get that pleasant buzz that softened the edges of the world. A second beer might do the trick, and she didn’t have another, dammit. “But I’m worried. I’ve a right to be worried about him, okay? He saved me twice; we’re practically family. Like you and me.”

  Missy didn’t seem impressed. With typical feline focus, she finished her food, sniffed around the bowl in case she’d missed any, and settled down to give herself a bath.

  Ella pulled out the piece of paper she’d found in Simon’s apartment and stared at it. The letters and numbers swam in her eyes. God, she was tired. And she hadn’t had a chance to show the paper to Jeff, see what he thought. Who else could she ask? Dave was avoiding her, avoiding the whole question about the Gates, and damn if just the word didn’t make her stomach do backward flips with dread. But even that wasn’t enough to put her off her search for Simon.

  Maybe Mike from next door might have an idea?

  A bang jerked her to her feet. The noise had come from Mike’s apartment. Talking of the devil... With all that was happening lately, she felt justified in grabbing her gun and rushing out to check on him.

  Mike’s door was half open. She’d need to have a word with him about security. Nudging it open with her foot, gun aimed, she entered. Quiet blanketed the apartment. Nothing moved. She listened for tell-tale clicks, but the soft ambiant music playing on the speakers distracted her. Where was Mike?

  A groan from the adjacent room made her shoulder muscles clench. She stalked to the door and waited, then stepped out, pointing her gun.

  “Oh, dear,” Mike muttered, on his knees, sweeping glass shards off the floor into a dust pan, “see the mess I’ve made. And this was my favorite crystal ball, too.” Messy dark hair fell into his eyes, hiding them.

  Ella lowered her gun. “Are you all right?”

  “Ella?” He fell back, eyes big as saucers. “Didn’t hear you come in. What are you doing here?”

  Feeling foolish, she holstered her gun and went to help him gather the shards. Belatedly she realized she hadn’t even washed her hands and they were covered in grime. Her nails were encrusted with dirt and blood.

  “Sorry. I heard a noise and thought maybe you were in trouble.” She gestured at him. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Mike pushed himself up and smiled, his dark eyes ligh
ting up. “That’s nice of you. I was having some trouble — with the Voices. Too loud lately.”

  “Ball slipped?” Mike liked to hold it in his hands, said it helped him focus.

  “Yeah.” Mike winced. “Damn expensive thing.” He sighed, wiped his hands on his jeans. “Can’t do one thing right these days.”

  “Welcome to the club,” Ella muttered. “Look, sorry I barged in like that.”

  “Nonsense.” He frowned. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

  Crap. She’d been afraid this moment would come. “Look, if it’s about the hours I return home from work, I do my best to keep it quiet but sometimes the door—”

  “Oh, no.” He looked startled. “Not that. I mean, you don’t make any noise, nothing to worry about.”

  Relieved, she leaned against the sofa. “Then?”

  “Not here.” He wrung his hands together. “Not now.”

  Odd. Well, since she was there, she might as well say what she had to say. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, too.”

  “About?”

  “The thinning of the Veil. Oracles are getting killed, Mike, maybe you should—”

  He waved his hand up and down, pressed a finger to his lips, nodded over his shoulder.

  What the hell?

  “Mike?” A man’s voice. “Is everything okay?”

  Ella turned. There was indeed a young man — a half-naked young man — in the doorway of what had to be Mike’s bedroom. “Who’s that?”

  “Um. You remember Scott?”

  Ella blinked. “Your boyfriend who lives on a ranch out of town?”

  Mike grinned. “Yeah, he’s the one. Only just arrived today.”

  Picked the perfect time, too, with the world going to hell. She wondered if the countryside was safer. Maybe she should move there. “I’m Ella, next door neighbor.”

  Scott nodded, and Ella nodded back. The guy was taller than Mike, with broad shoulders and an easy-going smile, his tousled blond hair giving him a jaunty air. Not bad-looking at all.

  “Listen,” Mike cast her a pleading look, “will you be in later?” He turned his back to Scott. “Please,” he mouthed.

  “Sure.” Ella looked from him to Scott and back, her curiosity piqued. “I’ll be in.”

  ***

  Missy chased a dust bunny across the floor, then abandoned it in favor of chasing her own tail. Looked like fun. Ella dozed on her couch, a stupid reality show lulling her to sleep, while the kitten ran up and down the living room on soft paws.

  A knock on her door jerked her awake. A feeling of dread made her heart pound. The fading images of a dream teased her sense of reality — white spirals swirling, swallowing her up, a hand approaching her face, a sense of danger.

  She shook her head to dispel the last vestiges of the dream and got up. The room was cast in grey. Dark was falling.

  Another knock. Grabbing her gun, she crept behind the door. “Who is it?”

  “Mike.”

  Letting out a sigh of relief, Ella unlocked the door and slid it open. “What’s all the secrecy about?”

  “Oh, that? Um.” Mike’s cheeks flushed. “I just don’t want Scott caught up in this.”

  “He’s with you,” Ella felt obliged to point out. “He’s caught up already.”

  “You don’t understand. I don’t want to involve him in the Shade business. He thinks I’m fun-crazy, which is fine, but...” He shrugged. “With all the attacks, and the Voices getting louder, I’m afraid...”

  He’ll leave you? Ella swallowed a sigh. Her Sight had been one of the reasons her family had broken apart. The HQ psychologist had insisted it would’ve happened anyway, but deep inside she was sure it was because of her.

  “Things are about to get worse, Mike,” she muttered. “Like I said before, the Shades have been attacking oracles. You’re in danger.”

  He paled and backed away. “What should I do?”

  “I’d say moving to Scott’s ranch might be best.”

  “Can’t. He’s just sold it. He’s moving in with me.”

  Man, Scott’s timing really sucked. “Okay, just — be careful. Redraw the symbols on your door and use more iron charms, wear your clothes inside out, hang a rock with a natural hole around your neck. Everything I’ve told you before. And carry a knife with you. In fact, what about a gun?”

  He paled. “Gun?”

  “Gun.” Ella holstered hers, tapped the grip. “Bullets. Weapons. You need to protect yourself.”

  Mike said nothing, shifting from foot to foot. Damn the man, he’d probably sworn an oath to Buddha to harm no living being, not even cockroaches.

  When the silence drew long and tense, she gestured at the kitchen counter, visible through the doorway. “Want a coffee? I think I’ve got a bag of that instant stuff somewhere.”

  “No, I...” He sank on the sofa. “I also need to tell you something.”

  “So you said. Did you hear anything on the grapevine?”

  “Yeah. I heard a name.” He looked down at his hands, twisting them in his lap, and drew a long breath. “Yours, Ella.”

  She tensed. “What did they say about me?”

  “Nothing. I mean, it could be another Ella, right? But they also mentioned a Simon not long after, and I thought it might be your partner.”

  “What did they say about Simon?” She rounded the sofa and leaned over him, her hands itching to shake him until he told her all he knew. “What else? Dammit, man, spit it out.”

  He shrank back, raised his hands. “Nothing interesting, I swear.”

  “Anything you heard could help.” She took a deep, steadying breath, and straightened. “Anything.”

  “Well, they mentioned this word — Boreal. Does it mean anything to you?”

  Boreal? “That’s something like northern, right? Like Aurora Borealis, the northern lights.” Could that be a clue?

  He shrugged. “No idea. Is it important? I’m more concerned about your name being mentioned. Could they be after you and Simon?”

  Ella fell in an armchair and threaded her fingers through her loose hair. “We think they went after Simon already. He’s missing.”

  Mike blanched. “Oh, god...”

  “When did you hear the names?”

  “This morning. I’ve been turning this over and over in my mind, and I just can’t help thinking — could that mean you’re next?

  She shrugged. “Well, they haven’t managed to catch me yet.” Thought they’d tried. If it hadn’t been for Finn...

  “So they’re after voyants, too.”

  “We think so. Mike...”

  “I’ll be careful. You too. Promise?”

  She nodded. A hell of a mess and no clues about Simon. And there was talk of Gates and shit that everyone had thought long forgotten and over with, returning to haunt them. John Grey. Guardians. Aelfheim.

  “I’ll go now. Scott will wonder where I’ve gone.”

  “Wait!” She fished the crumpled paper out of her back pocket and waved it at Mike. “Any clue what these letters and numbers could mean?”

  He scratched the back of his head and shrugged. “Looks sort of familiar. Maybe a password for a bank account?”

  Ella sighed. “Maybe.” Though it looked all wrong.

  “Well, g’night.”

  She threw an arm over her eyes. “Remember to lock. And use the charms. And don’t go out alone.”

  “Yes, Mom.” She heard the fond smile in his voice, though. The door clicked open, and then shut.

  Chapter Five

  Spiral

  Ella slept. Spirals bloomed behind her closed eyelids, growing like flowers, turning into snowflakes that blew on her face, tickling her skin. A large hand cupped her cheek. ‘Ella,’ whispered a man’s voice. ‘Will you come with me?’

  Terror seized her limbs. She fought to tear herself away but couldn’t move. Go away, she wanted to scream, not again, I’m not leaving. The spirals spun faster, black sinkholes, sucking her in.

 
The persistent ring of a phone jerked her awake. She drew lungfuls of air, nearly choking on it. She hunted for her backpack by the side of the sofa, located the phone in and flipped it open.

  “What?” she snapped.

  “Ella?” said a man’s voice and she swayed, still half-caught in the dream. “Ella, it’s Finn.” His voice wheezed like he was panting. “I need your help.” The line fizzed as if strong wind blew on the other end. “Ella?”

  That brought her back to her senses like a slap to the face. “Finn? You okay? Where are you?”

  “Can’t see... Harlem street...”

  A deafening crack and a cry sent her pulse thudding in her ears. “Finn? Finn, dammit!”

  But there was no answer.

  Cursing, she grabbed her backpack and raced out the door, redialing the number Finn had used. The phone rang as she stepped out in the bitter cold, and then ran back up to grab her gun and ammo. On the way to her car, an automated voice informed her that the number she was calling wasn’t responding. She flipped the phone closed, refusing to acknowledge the dread knotting her insides. He’d be fine. She’d find him.

  He hadn’t wanted her help, which meant he was in desperate straits, maybe dying and...

  Goddammit, stop the negative thinking!

  Driving through the city center, she prepared to call Dave, only to discover her battery had given up the ghost. She flung it at the back seat, too pissed to even care if it broke. Her fault. Not prepared, not organized where it mattered. She’d lost Simon, and now...

  She gripped the wheel tighter. Dave would have told her not to go, not alone. She’d have to wait for backup, maybe be taken off this case altogether. Thank god her phone had died. Probably a stroke of fate. She was meant to go and find Finn, dammit.

  That made her feel marginally better.

  Harlem Avenue was bright with lights, but few people braved the cold. She rolled her window down to clear the condensation on the glass. The promise of snow hung heavy in the air; it smelled fresh and dry, thick with crystals. She cruised along, keeping an eye on every corner she passed.

  At the corner with Kennedy Street, she saw a flash of movement but it was only a group of teenagers running, one of them clutching something to his chest.